Foxicity
by AubreyWitch
Summary: Even Naruto can tell the difference between a transformation technique and the real thing. The problem is, when it comes to Sakura, he just can't help himself. ONE SHOT NaruSaku


He knew it wasn't Sakura-chan—the real Sakura-chan—the moment she smiled at him and said, "Yes."

Sure, she had gone on play dates with him before in the few months that he'd been back, but Sakura-chan—_his_ Sakura-chan—would never simply agree and with a cute smile, no less.

A sigh followed by, "Fine, but you're paying" was the most common response he got, and more lately he'd been lucky enough to catch a roll of her eyes before she cut him off with, "I know, I know. A date, right? Come on."

But Sakura-chan never _agreed_; she simply gave in.

He felt the unease wash over him momentarily, but he shrugged it away and offered her his best smile. Even if it wasn't his Sakura-chan, it felt good to have this (nicer) Sakura smile at him with her pretty eyes and blush as she gingerly slipped her fingers between his. And besides, he was in Konoha. What could happen? He was _safe_.

Probably, it was just one of the Rookie Nine playing a harmless prank to get back at him for all those times in the past (and he couldn't blame them if it was), but somehow it seemed a bit cruel.

So against his better judgment and his tingling instincts, but to the pleasure of his screaming hormones, Uzumaki Naruto took the fake Sakura out to dinner.

He was grinning like an idiot as he sat down in the booth across from her, and he actually blushed when she slipped her leg between his under the table, rubbing up and down slowly as she examined her menu. The transformation technique was flawless. From her short, chipped nails to her sensuous curves, this was the image of the girl he had lusted after so many nights alone—who was now laughing at his lewd jokes and ducking her head and biting her bottom lip just for him. He felt a little guilty when at one point during the meal he thought to himself, _This isn't the girl that I love_, but God he craved her attention so maybe it couldn't hurt to pretend.

It wasn't until they were standing outside the front door to his apartment that he knew he just couldn't do it. She was beautiful and she was _willing_, but it just wouldn't be the same. He felt that familiar sense of desperation hit him in the gut, and turned to get away.

She grabbed his arm, forcing his attention back to her pleading face. "Naruto-kun, what's wrong? Are you upset with me?"

It was all wrong. So very wrong. "I'm not—" _Not what? Not Naruto-kun._ He frowned, unable to finish. The whole idea was stupid, to have thought he could go along with this. He should have known that it would just remind him of what he didn't have. "Look, Sakura-ch—ah, Sakura—"

She was running her fingertips over the back of his wrist, distracting, and for a moment he wondered if he'd cry from the frustration. Instead, he forced a light laugh and scratching the back of his head, said, "You know—"

And then she kissed him.

Letting his hand drop to his side, he closed his eyes, and kissed her back. He felt himself melting into her as the kiss deepened, making it hard for him to breath or think or do anything except crush her body against his own. _He wanted it, he wanted it, he wanted it._

He pulled away, panting and hot and found it still hard to breathe. "Sa—ah—" The ground was suddenly spinning. "What did you—?" He dropped to his hands and knees, arms shaking to hold up his weight.

The fake Sakura bent down and slipped one hand under his chin, lifting his face and forcing him to look at her. She wiped her thumb across his bottom lip and grinning, answered, "Poisons are my specialty, Naruto-kun."

"No. You're wrong. . . I'm. . ." But he felt himself slipping away, even as he fumbled to get the words out.

* * *

He felt like he was on fire. Naruto opened his eyes slowly and blinked blearily around the room. It was dark and hard to make things out, but it appeared as if the room was made of carved stone. Which meant. . . which meant. . . why was his brain working so slow? Which meant. . . he was probably in a cave or somewhere underground. Not a good sign. 

He tried to sit up from his position on his side but found the task exhausting and painful. His movements were greatly restrained, immediately alerting him to the fact that he was securely bound. He recognized the sensation of the ropes around his wrists even before he twisted against them, testing their strength. No good. He wouldn't be able to make any hand seals. He closed his eyes and groaned in frustration, trying to remember what had gotten him here. He hadn't been on a mission, and he doubted Tsunade-baa-chan would be so cruel even considering the way with which he usually spoke to her. Maybe Sakura-chan was angry abou—Then he remembered, and he wished he hadn't.

There was movement in the corner of the room and suddenly two cloaked individuals were staring down at him. The thick, dark cloth of their robes bunched on the floor around him, barely touching the front of him.

He received a sharp kick in the gut followed by a man's voice saying, "You said he wouldn't awaken for three more days."

A harder kick and he choke-cried into the gag.

"Hey, hey," a woman's voice this time. "We need him alive for the ritual. Watch it."

"If you had done your job—"

"I _told_ you that I couldn't be sure," she hissed in response. "The Nine Tails gives him the potential to synthesize chemical compounds at an extremely accelerated rate. It would be different had I wanted to kill him. But finding the proper balance is—"

"It doesn't matter now." A third voice cut in from farther away. "The preparations are almost complete."

There was a ruffling of cloth as the two nodded and moved away, leaving him forgotten on the floor.

He felt like he was going to vomit. But if that happened he was likely to choke to death behind the gag before anyone gave a damn enough to help him. The stone floor was cool against his flushed skin so he lay completely still, concentrating on not being sick and trying to think of a way out of his predicament. It didn't look like he'd be able to talk his way out of this one. How long had be been out? Would anyone even know he was missing yet? Or had it been weeks already and they'd given up on hope of finding him?

He sighed, breathing in the stale scent of the room. He couldn't die here. He had to save his friendship with Sasuke-teme and and make Sakura-chan fall in love with him and become the Hokage someday. He had to—stop trembling and not get sick—he had to think of a way out. But the problem was, he was getting worse.

It was several hours later and he still hadn't moved, unable to keep from drifting in and out of consciousness, when eight or so of them filled the room. He thought that maybe he was a little bit scared as he was hauled up roughly and dragged to the middle of the room, but he couldn't be sure because he couldn't think anymore. He couldn't concentrate around the haze of the room but didn't know how to snap himself out of it.

_Focus._

He was on his knees in the center of an intricately designed pattern, formed with unfamiliar symbols, hand-carved into the floor.

"Hmn unn." _Swallow. Don't puke._

He closed his eyes as his black t-shirt was cut away, but opened them again, jerking forward slightly as his necklace was ripped from him.

_Wait._

He winced as the side of his neck was nicked with the kunai and two fingers slipped across the wound, wetting themselves before scrawling across his skin. When the symbols were complete across his shoulders he doubled over and let out a muffled yell from the pain. It felt like the Nine Tails was trying to claw its way out through his stomach. The intensity increased with each symbol as the fingers continued writing down his spine nearing the completion to the beginning of the ritual. It took every ounce of strength just to keep from passing out from the pain.

This was it. Once the seal broke, he'd slaughter them all. And then he'd turn on his own village. He was going to lose himself to the swirl of red hot chakra.

He could feel the stripes elongating on his face just as the wall to his left exploded inward. The chanting around him stopped, and for a moment the press of the Nine Tails subsided. As the dust cleared he could just make out the shapes of Sakura-chan and. . . Sai?

She was slumped forward slightly, panting and covered in fine powder from shattering earth and rock. Her eyes grew wide when she spotted Naruto, and she mouthed something that he couldn't make out. Sai's composed expression remained unchanged at the sight before him even as he ripped open a scroll and began scribbling. Within seconds a large black tiger leaped through the air into the room. Sakura-chan launched forward after it, fists ready.

_Sakura-chan._

Why was she crying?

After the first three were taken down, the others fled for their lives. Sai started after them but she called him back, and he looked unhappy to let them go.

And then she was there before him on her knees, frowning in concern as she pulled the gag away and pressed her palm again his burning seal. He hissed at the contact and tried to pull back, but one of Sai's hands was already gripping his shoulder, holding him in place.

"Sakura-chan, it hurts."

Their intervention had surprised him and caused his transformation to recede. He was thankful that she didn't have to see him like that—wild and no longer himself. But he couldn't be sure his eyes had returned to blue, and he almost didn't want to look at her. The last time she'd seen him half-changed, he'd hurt her.

She ignored his protest, instead speaking to Sai, "Hurry with the bindings. I need to lay him down to work; he's been poisoned."

"They won't cut," Sai answered, sawing harshly at the ropes.

His hand slipped away from Naruto's shoulder to draw a seal for strengthening to wrap around the kunai, and Naruto slumped forward a bit. When had he started trembling?

"I don't feel so good, Sakura-chan." He tried to smile but it came off as a grimace.

She slipped an arm around him to hold him up as Sai worked, wiping the sweat from his brow with one gloved hand. "Geeze, Naruto. You're such an idiot! How could you have let this happen?"

But she couldn't keep the franticness from her voice.

He closed his eyes, content to know that Sakura-chan had been worried about him, and let himself drift into a heavy unconsciousness.

* * *

Naruto wasn't really surprised to awaken in the hospital—his time spent there had been increasing lately, but he wasn't usually the one being visited (or staying overnight) so he _was_ surprised to find a sleeping Sakura-chan curled at his side. He didn't want to wake her, but sometimes he just couldn't help himself.

"Hey, hey. What did I say about long nights?"

She groaned into the mattress when he jabbed her playfully, impatient for a response.

"It's my day off," she finally mumbled. "I can be here if I want."

He grinned at her incoherence. Sakura-chan had never been a morning person and her apprenticeship in the hospital had only augmented that trait through prolonged sleep deprivation. "Sakura-chan, Saaakura-chan!"

"Hnnn. What, Naruto?" She propped herself up some to look at him, frowning slightly at having been woken.

Her eyes were half-laden with sleep and her hair was mussed, but she was his—or should be dammit—and he wanted nothing more than to kiss her.

"I'm sorry."

Her lips quirked at his confession.

"You should be," she sighed and settled back beside him.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, nuzzling his face against her neck as he allowed her to fall back into sleep.

Hours from then she'd lecture him about his carelessness, recklessness, and overall stupidity that got him into trouble with a fanatical, though weaker, copycat group to Akatsuki. He'd learn while avoiding her punches that he'd been missing for four days and that she and Sai had both defied Hokage orders to search for him "until further information could be gathered." He would never thank her or even admit that in a roundabout way she'd been the cause.

Because for just that moment, he was content to snuggle closer and listen to the sound of her steady breathing as he imagined what it would be like if she ever really said, "Yes."


End file.
